For Whom the Drum Beats
by shopgirl152
Summary: Think you know the story behind Evita's death? Think again; here is what really happened on that fateful day. Based on the movie version and Today 4 U.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N**: I do not own the RENT characters. Lucinda is copyrighted by me.

* * *

Benny woke up with a groan. Evita was at it again: barking incessantly at the cars passing by the Gracie Muse. Everyday, the same thing: bark, bark, bark. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't shut the damn dog up. Even worse, he couldn't get rid of the dog either (not that the thought hadn't crossed his mind several times). If Evita should die, Allison would be heartbroken. All for a lazy, no good, purebred dog who barked at the world.

* * *

Lucinda woke up, ready to smash something against the side wall. The stupid neighbor dog was at it again; barking its head off for no apparent reason. Ever since the Coffins had bought the dog a year ago, Lucinda hadn't been able to sleep through the night.

She picked up a blue vase, poised to throw, then thought better of it. The Coffins were neighbors after all; better to be civil than a bad neighbor. She pulled her robe around her and headed toward the door.

A few seconds later, she was standing outside the Coffins door; she could hear the dog still barking. She knocked, which set the dog to barking even louder, if that was possible. She heard the key turn in the lock.

"Oh, hi Lucinda," said Benny, holding Evita by the collar to prevent her from jumping up on their guest. "What can I do for you?"

"Your dog has kept me awake long enough Benny. Ever since you bought it, I haven't been able to sleep; this is your first warning. If that dog doesn't shut-up, I will be forced to take action."

"Now calm down Lucinda; I realize that Evita is a bit high-strung, but—"

"A bit high-strung? That…that…_thing_ jumps on everybody, pees on my welcome mat and tries to dig up the hallway. All that on top of the barking. Mark my words Benny, I will do something about it; and you won't like it." With that, Lucinda turned and walked down the hallway, Evita barking at her retreating back.

"Shut-up Evita!" Benny smacked the dog on the rump, causing it to yelp, before it started barking again. Benny groaned, yanking the dog back into the apartment.

* * *

Back in her apartment, Lucinda paced around the room, fuming. She had to get rid of that dog, but how? There was the idea of killing it, but she was no cold blooded killer; besides, she couldn't kill the dog; the cops would trace the fingerprints. Better to think of some of other way to do it. Suddenly, she had an idea: what if she got someone else to kill the dog?

"Yes! That's it! I'll get someone else to kill the dog! That way, it will be on their head, not mine. It's brilliant! Now, who to choose? Which victim…I mean assistant, should I choose?" Lucinda grinned wickedly as she walked over to the window that looked out over Avenue A. She scanned the streets. "Somebody unassuming, who would be lured by the prospect of money, someone poor, someone who…" Her voice trailed off as she spotted someone a ways down the Avenue. A young man was sitting on a bench, drumming away on what appeared to be a pickle tub of some sort. He was wearing sneakers, jeans, a black shirt and brown leather jacket. A man passed in front of the drummer, setting something down on the tub before walking away. The drummer paused, picked up the dollar and put it in his back pocket. Lucinda grinned. "A street performer. Perfect!"


	2. Chapter 2

By all accounts, Angel Dumott Schunard was your average looking guy. A struggling artist, Angel made a living as a street performer, drumming on an upside down plastic pickle tub most days. It wasn't much of a living, but he got by. The money he made paid the rent and paid for his various dresses, stockings, high heels and coordinating outfits. He made his own clothes, hoping his designs would one day be mass produced by the GAP.

He stretched his back, wishing he were wearing his favorite Mrs. Clause outfit with black wig. It was Christmas Eve after all. However, it was a little hard to drum on a pickle tub while wearing a dress, so Angel had ditched his dress, stockings and high heels in favor of something a little more appropriate for drumming. The ragged edges of the pickle tub would have caught on his stockings anyway.

Angel lazily scratched his back with a drumstick, thinking. He looked around, assessing the Avenue. The number of people had trickled down to a few; time to move to a new place. He picked up his pickle tub, tucking it under his arm. Just as he was reaching down for the drumsticks, a black limousine with tinted windows pulled up to the curb. Angel stood up, watching as the passenger side window was rolled down, revealing an elderly woman in her early 80s, who was wearing en elegant choker, white gloves and various bangles on both arms.

"Hello Darling." The woman put her hand out the window, daintily wiggling her fingers in greeting. "My name is Lucinda Williams."

"I'm Angel."

"Angel? That's an interesting name. It sounds heavenly." Lucinda chuckled at her joke. Angel raised an eyebrow, deciding not to respond. "Anyway darling, I saw you from my window this morning. You're a fantastic drummer."

Angel smiled. "Thank you."

"You're very welcome. So, you're a street performer then?"

"Yes."

"How much do you make? Oh, I'm sorry, that was impertinent of me, wasn't me?" Lucinda put her hand to her mouth in mock horror.

"Not at all. I don't make much I'm afraid; just enough to get by."

"Well, how would you like to make a thousand dollars?"

Angel's eyes widened. "A thousand dollars? Oh honey, I couldn't take that kind of money from you."

"Nonsense! You wouldn't be taking it from me; I'm giving it to you. A great drummer like you deserves it!"

Angel crossed his arms over his chest, thinking. A thousand dollars would be nice; he could have the heat back in his apartment again. Still, there had to be a catch. "What's the catch?"

"A catch? No darling, no catch here. Just, a favor, if you will."

"What kind of favor?"

Lucinda took a breath. This guy was harder to crack than she thought. "I need you to make my neighbor's yappy dog disappear. They purchased an Akita, the name is Evita I think, a year ago. All this dog ever does is bark. It will not shut-up no matter how many times you yell at it. I haven't slept in a year; It is noise pollution to the highest degree."

"What do you want me to do?"

"I believe if you play your drum non-stop outside the Gracie Muse, the pup will breathe its very last high strung breath. I'm certain the um…poor cur….will bark itself to death."

Angel uncrossed his arms, sticking his hands in his jeans pockets. Wait, to unladylike. He withdrew his hands, instead cradling one elbow in his hand, resting his chin on his palm in thought. Lucinda waited eagerly. Finally…

"A thousand dollars?"

"Guaranteed." Angel paused. "I'll throw in a bonus if you trim my tree."

"How big a bonus?"

"Say…oh….five hundred dollars."

Angel grinned at Lucinda, extending his hand. "You have a deal."


	3. Chapter 3

A few hours later, Angel found himself standing outside the Gracie Muse on the ground floor, in view of the courtyard and Benny's apartment on the twenty-third floor. He stared up at Lucinda's apartment, waiting for her signal.

* * *

Lucinda stood just outside her apartment door, out of sight around the corner. She heard Evita bark wildly as a nearby door was opened. She waited until Benny walked around the corner, before sneaking towards his front door. She rang the doorbell, setting Evita to a barking frenzy. She waited for a few seconds, then rang the bell again; more barking. She alternated between ringing the doorbell incessantly, pounding on the door and yelling, causing enough noise to where anyone in the apartment could hear her, but not loud enough to attract attention.

After several more minutes of ringing, pounding and yelling with no response from behind the locked door, Lucinda walked over to the ledge, giving the okay signal.

* * *

In the courtyard below, Angel gave the return signal; it was showtime.


	4. Chapter 4

Angel picked up his pickle tub, deliberately walking over towards the fountain in the middle of the Gracie Muse courtyard. He sat on a bench, put the pickle tub between his legs and began drumming.

For awhile, the only sound that could be heard coming from the courtyard was the sound of drumming. Then, it happened; upstairs, on a twenty-third story window ledge, Angel spotted a brown Akita, barking and yapping against the window pane. He watched as the dog created a ruckus, scratching frantically at the windowpane, trying to get to the source of the noise.

Angel bent his head down, drumming faster and faster, louder and louder. In the midst of the frantic drumming, he looked up, checking on the twenty-third story window. The Akita was now throwing itself against the window, its teeth bared, barking angrily. It scratched the window even more desperately, causing deep scratches in the glass. Angel continued to drum, losing track of time.

* * *

An hour later, the Akita was still barking and scratching at the glass; it threw itself against the glass, foaming at the mouth, literally working itself into a lather. Angel looked up from his drumming; the Akita had disappeared from the window. He beat the pickle tub even louder, attempting to bring the dog back. Suddenly, there was a loud bark and the sound of breaking glass. Angel looked up just in time to see the brown Akita smash itself through the glass, falling head first toward the courtyard at breakneck speed, barking the whole way down.

Angel turned away as the Akita hit the concrete with a sickening thud. There was the sound of bones breaking and then…silence. Angel nonchalantly picked up his pickle tub and drumsticks, then walked away from the courtyard.

He rounded the corner, almost smacking into Lucinda. "Good job darling! That cur won't be bothering me anymore; now I can sleep. Wonderful job darling."

Angel stared at Lucinda, a stony expression on his face. "Where's my money?"

"Right here darling." Lucinda handed him a wad of crisp, new dollar bills. Angel flipped through the money, making sure all was accounted for. "It's all there darling, right down to the last dollar."

"And the bonus?"

"I'll pay you in advance. Here." She handed him five hundred dollars. "This weekend darling, don't forget."

"I won't. Thanks. I—" Angel was cut off by the sound of sirens blaring down the street. He peeked his head around the corner, spotting several police cars pulling up to the Gracie Muse. Lucinda had a look of horror on her face.

"It's the cops! Run!"

"What?!"

"RUN! Outta my way!" Lucinda pushed Angel into the side of the building as she ran past him, making her getaway.

"Hey! You there!" Angel froze as a policeman walked up to him. "Do you know anything about this?"

Angel swallowed, trying to look innocent. "Know about what?"

"We got a call from somebody in this building. They say there was loud drumming in the courtyard, then a dog jumped from a twenty-third story window into the courtyard. Broke her neck on the way down. They say the person was wearing…" The policeman paused, reading the physical description on his notepad. "A pair of sneakers, jeans, a black shirt and a brown…" The policeman eyed Angel suspiciously. "You look like that guy."

"Oh, there are a lot of people who dress like this. I'm poor; this is all I own."

The policeman cocked an eyebrow. "Well, if you say so. Where's the dog?"

Angel pointed towards the courtyard. "Over there, by the water fountain."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome." Angel stayed as still as possible while the policeman walked around the corner. He waited until he was sure the coast was clear, then made a run for it.

The policeman's head jerked up as he was taking a physical description of Evita. He spied Angel running down the street. He studied his notepad, suddenly realizing his mistake. "That's him! That's the guy who was drumming in the courtyard! Get him!"


	5. Chapter 5

Angel bolted down the street, the police hot on his trail. He weaved in and out of the crowds of people on the sidewalk, trying not to knock anyone over. His mind raced. _What am I going to do? I was just doing Lucinda a favor; she's the one who wanted the dog dead. Now they think it's me_. He ducked around a corner, trying to catch his breath. If he told the police who was behind all this, they never would believe him. "But, they'll believe someone else…" Angel snapped his fingers; the idea was so ingenious, it just might work. He just had to make it to his apartment before they did.

* * *

A few seconds later, Angel stood on the stoop of his apartment complex. He jammed the key in the lock, turned it, then yanked the key back out as soon as he heard the lock click. He raced up to his apartment, taking the stairs two at a time. He pulled his door back in a hurry, then raced to his closet. He threw the door open, throwing stockings, a dress, a pair of high heels, his black wig and his make-up on the bed. He didn't have much time; this would have to be a quick job. He yanked off his pants and began pulling on the stockings.

* * *

Maureen walked up to her apartment complex, grumbling. "Geez, you would think those cops have nothing better to do than to push the bums off the sidewalk. I'll show them; tomorrow at my protest, I'll show them just how much of a louse Benny really is. His stupid _cyberland _building project; why can't he leave us alone?" She shifted the groceries to her hip, searching her jeans pocket for her keys.

"Excuse me Miss."

Maureen jumped at a voice behind her. She turned around, finding herself face to face with a policeman, three additional police behind him. "Oh god. Benny sent you, didn't he? Why that no good, son-of-a—"

"Take it easy Miss; we're not going to hurt you." Maureen rolled her eyes. "We're after somebody and we saw him come in here. We were wondering if you might be able to let us into the building."

Maureen crossed her arms over her chest. "Now why would I do that? You policemen are always…policing around here. Go pick on someone else."

"Now listen, you can either move, or I will physically move you."

"I _dare_ you."

The policeman looked at his comrades helplessly. "I really hate to do this to you, but resisting an officer is grounds for arrest." He dug into pocket and fished out a pair of handcuffs. "If you come quietly, I won't push charges."

Maureen glared at the policeman. "Fine. You can come in, but mark my words, you'll pay for this, you'll—you'll…" But the policemen were already gone, making their way upstairs.

* * *

Angel heard a knock on the door. He paused, listening. "This is the New York police department. We're searching for somebody. Open up, or we will break the door down."

Angel got up from his dressing table, putting his wig carefully on his head. "One second honey, I'm coming." He smoothed his dress and opened the door. "Yes?"

The policeman stared. The woman standing in front of him was wearing black, high heeled boots, black stockings and a Mrs. Clause outfit. Her hair was black and cropped short. She looked familiar, though the policeman couldn't figure out why. "Um…we're looking for a man who was wearing sneakers, jeans, a black shirt and brown leather jacket. Have you seen him? Or…do you know anyone who fits that description?"

Angel shrugged. "I don't know anyone like that. I've never seen anyone like that actually."

"Is it alright if we search your apartment?"

"Go ahead honey; you won't find anything though."

The policemen walked in the door, scanning the apartment. No sign of a man living there anywhere; there was a bed with four pillows on it, a threadbare rug on the dusty floor and a dressing table with make-up. The policemen did a quick check in the bathroom, then walked out into the hallway.

"Okay, you're clean. Sorry to bother you Miss. I'm Officer Barry; if you happen to see this person or know anyone else who might have had a hand in this crime, please don't hesitate to call. Let us know if we can do anything for you. Good day." Officer Barry walked towards the stairs and was just about ready to descend when he heard the woman call after him.

"Officer Barry?"

"Yes?"

Angel bounced over to the Officer. "Come to think of it, there is something you could do for me."


	6. Chapter 6

Lucinda walked into the kitchen, pouring herself a glass of wine. "That stupid Angel; he never saw it coming. Now he'll take the fall and I can get a good night's sleep for once." She grinned wickedly. "I'm so smart; that stupid cur will never bother me again." She walked into the living room, swishing the wine in her glass thoughtfully. "Frame someone else, that's my motto." She laughed and was about to take a sip of her wine when she heard a knock on the door.

"Open up! New York City police! We have a warrant for your arrest!"

"Shit!" Lucinda chugged the wine, searching the apartment for a way out. There wasn't one.

"Open up! You don't open up, we'll be forced to break down the door!" Lucinda froze; she was done for. Washed up, beaten. Her way of life was over. Wait. She still had an ace in the hole. Angel. She chuckled to herself as she went to open the door, her panic subsiding.

"Good afternoon Officer; what can I do for you?"

"You're under arrest for dog slaughter and two counts of disturbing the peace."

"Why Officer, you wouldn't dream of arresting me."

The Officer crossed his arms; he didn't look happy. "And why not?"

"Because I wasn't the one who killed the dog; it was that man with the drum. In the courtyard, he did it. He made me do it."

"Not the way I heard it. I ran into a nice lady who told me the whole story. She said you coerced that nice young man to kill the dog for you so you wouldn't have to do it. Apparently, you don't like getting your hands dirty. She saw the whole thing. You even bribed the man by offering him money."

Lucinda's jaw dropped. She had been ratted out! "Fine, I admit it. It was me, I was the one who did it! I bribed him to play his drums so the dog would bark itself to death. I couldn't take it anymore; I hadn't slept in a year. I-I…" She groaned as the Officer slapped a pair of cuffs on her.

"Save your story for the judge lady; you're coming with me."

* * *

Angel stood outside by the police car, dressed in his drumming clothes: sneakers, jeans, black shirt and brown leather jacket. He smirked as Lucinda was led outside; she stared at him in horror, pointing.

"That's him! That's the one! The guy that-that…"

"I told you to save it! Now, get in there!" The Officer forced Lucinda into the backseat of the patrol car. He shut the door, looking at Angel. "Sorry for the mix up. Is there anything I could do for you?"

Angel smiled. "No."

The Officer extended his hand. "Well, nice meeting you…"

"Angel."

"Angel. You have a good night now."

"You too."

Angel watched as the patrol car drove down the street, disappearing around the corner. He picked up his pickle tub and drumsticks, tucking them under his arm. The night was young; there was still time to earn a little extra money before Christmas Day.

* * *

**A/N: Okay readers, your turn! Does the story end here, or do I write two more chapters detailing Angel and Collins first meeting? After all, (as any good RENThead knows) the last verse of Today 4 U told of Angel finding Collins and dressing his wounds. So, leave me a review, detailing which you would prefer.**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: The readers have spoken! Here are the final two chapters of For Whom the Drum Beats!**

**A/N 2: If I have some of the dialogue wrong at the end of this chapter, please let me know.**

* * *

Angel sat on the bumper of a car in the middle of Avenue A, watching the spectacle around him: flaming pieces of paper fluttered to the ground, the sparks of fire and anger lighting up the night. It was rent time on the Avenue and nobody was happy. Around him, people yelled out from the fire escapes.

"We're not gonna pay rent!"

We're not paying last years rent!"

"This year's rent!"

"Or next month's rent!"

"We're not gonna pay rent!"

"Everything is rent!"

Angel watched as one last piece of burning paper fluttered to the ground, smoldering itself on the sidewalk in front of him. He stood up and held his drumsticks up in salute. On the fire escape across the street, he spotted a man with long blonde hair looking at a pretty Latina girl on the fire escape below. He smiled at the spectacle. The man was just about to go back in his apartment when another man got out of a car. He looked up at the man with long blonde hair who was joined by another man on the fire escape.

"Get down here, I need to talk to you."

Angel picked up his pickle tub and drumsticks and headed down the street; nothing else to see here. It was late, but maybe he'd get a few dollars from a last minute Christmas shopper. He scanned the street, deciding to set up on a deserted corner. Even if there was no one around, it would be a good time to practice; his apartment wasn't big on drumming in the middle of the night.

He put the pickle tub between his legs and began drumming, scanning the street, lost in thought. A man walked by and put a dollar on top of the pickle tub, then walked away without saying a word.

"Merry Christmas," Angel said, before putting the money in his back pocket.

He bounced the pickle tub up and down, trying to create different sounds. He was just about to drum some more when he heard a noise. He paused, looking around. He bounced the tub again, then heard the noise once more. "Hello?" Deciding to investigate, he picked up his pickle tub, putting it under his arms, grabbing his drumsticks. "Is anybody there?"

The noise sounded like it was coming from a back alley. He cautiously made his way down the alley, toward the source of the noise. It sounded like coughing, sick coughing. Angel made his way further down the alley; at the very end, under a faint streetlight, laid a man, bruised and bleeding. Angel ran over to him.

"Oh my gosh, are you okay honey?"

"I think so. No, they took my wallet." Angel's heart filled with compassion for the man. He knelt down in front of him, taking a handkerchief out of his back pocket, attempting to wipe the dried blood off the man's face. The man put his hands up, pushing the handkerchief away.

"I'm Angel."

"Angel." The man looked a little surprised. "Collins. Tom Collins."

Angel set his drumsticks down on the ground. "Come on, let's get you cleaned up."


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N**: In case anyone is wondering, the reason I left out the dialogue regarding the Life Support meeting at the end of the last chapter is because I didn't feel it added to this particular story. I wanted to focus more on Angel taking Collins home and taking care of him.

* * *

"Okay honey, I'm going to put some mercurochrome on your wounds. This may sting a bit." Angel unscrewed the top of the mercurochrome jar, taking out the applicator. He swabbed the wounds on Collins face as gently as he could. Collins flinched. Angel felt his heart go out to man. "Sorry honey, it has to be done."

Collins gulped. "Yeah, I know."

Angel finished applying the mercurochrome, then walked over to his dressing table, getting out a roll of bandages. He walked back over to Collins and without saying a word, began to dress his wounds.

"I need to go home. My friends will be wondering where I am."

"Honey, you're not going anywhere. It's late; you were moaning and groaning on the concrete in an alley. You need to rest."

"But where am I supposed to go?"

"You can stay here. Take the bed."

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"I hardly know you."

"Honey, you're sick; you need to stay here. Take the bed sugar; I can sleep on the floor tonight."

Collins looked down over at the bed, appearing to think it over. He looked back at Angel. "Okay."

Angel grinned. "Great! Now honey, you get yourself into bed and I'll make a bed on the floor. Do you need anything?"

"No, I 'm fine." Collins got up, slowly limping toward the bed. After watching each painful step for what seemed like hours, Angel couldn't stand it.

"Here sugar; let me help." He walked over to Collins, draping his arm around Collins broad shoulders. "Lean on me a little."

"Okay." Taking baby steps, the pair made it to the bed. Angel sat Collins down on the bed.

"Can you make it into bed alright?"

Collins got on his hands and knees, crawling toward the front of the bed, throwing the pillows off as he did so. He reached out to pull the covers, only to wince in pain. "Ow."

"Here sugar; let me. Just stay right there." Angel went to the front of the bed, pulling the covers back far enough so Collins could get in. "Can you crawl in from here?"

Collins gingerly made his way to where Angel was standing, tucking his feet under the covers. He stopped, still on all fours, facing the front of the bed, looking for all the world like a helpless puppy. Angel couldn't help smiling. "What's wrong?"

Collins looked over his shoulder, looking sheepish. "I can't move."

"Here." Angel gently grabbed Collins around the waist. "Now, this might hurt, but when I say go, we move together, okay?"

"Okay."

"Okay…go." Between the two of them, they managed to get Collins turned around so he was now sitting up. He gingerly laid down on his back, letting out a sigh.

"Oh, I don't think I've ever hurt that bad."

Angel stroked his cheek. "It's okay; you'll feel better in the morning. Want me to tuck you in?"

Collins looked around him. "Um, I think I'm already tucked in." He smiled; Angel smiled back. Their eyes locked for a second; Angel felt himself blush slightly. He finally looked away, breaking the spell.

"I'm going to make my bed up now. You stay there and rest." Angel turned around, making his way toward the bathroom.

"Angel?"

Angel turned around. "Yes?"

"Thank you. For everything."

Angel smiled. "You're welcome."

* * *

Later that night, Angel was lying on the floor, sound asleep, when he heard a faint moan. He sat up, rubbing his eyes, looking toward the bed. Collins was sound asleep, but he was shaking. Angel watched him for a few minutes. Another moan, then a faint sound filled the room.

"Angel?"

"Yes?"

"I'm cold."

Angel hugged himself, rubbing his hands up and down his arms; it was a cold night. "Hang on honey, I'm coming." He got up from the floor, making his way towards the other side of the bed. He pulled back the covers, climbing into the bed, snuggling up next to Collins.

"Is that better?"

"Still…cold." Now Collins sounded half asleep.

Angel snuggled closer, wrapping his arms around the man's broad shoulders, tucking his knees up against his back. "How about now?"

"Mmmm…" Collins grew quiet; his body stopped shaking and the moaning was replaced by quiet, rhythmic, breathing. He was asleep.

As Angel wrapped his arms tighter around Collins, he couldn't help thinking how lucky he was; in one day, he had helped kill an annoying, barking, dog for Lucinda; he had made one thousand, five hundred dollars, out ran the cops (and outsmarted them), brought Lucinda to justice and now here he was, lying in bed, with his arms wrapped around an amazing man he had met in an alley. Maybe it was to soon to tell, but Angel had a feeling that he would be with this man forever. He gently stroked Collins cheek, kissing him softly. "Good-night Collins."

"Mmmm….good-night. Angel."

Angel smiled to himself as he drifted off to sleep.

* * *

**A/N 2**: Well, this ends the story of For Whom the Drum Beats. I want to say thank you to the people who came back and read/reviewed this story everytime I posted another chapter; you're the reason I kept writing it and the reason I had so much fun with it. Special thanks to broadwaybaby4205, Twilightwicked5678 and Marky's Scarfy for giving me input on whether or not I should add two more chapters; you guys are awesome.


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